#WITH THIS EYE「ic」 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

criticalconqueror · 8 months ago

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「 @universestreasures | Reiji Akaba」 Happy (totally not belated) Birthday, NIISAMAAAAAA

It was another rather cold night at the Akaba estate. The number of open windows didn't really help with that-- It was something that became a normal occurrence now that the dragonic brothers lived within these walls. The opening of windows, no matter the weather, started as something the purple one called Yuri would do to give his plants access to the outside amenities. Now it was something that everyone but Yuri would do to air out the halls from the plants overwhelming fragrances.

But the plants kept that one happy enough to not cause trouble, so after this long most everyone had learned to live with it. Even down here, where Reira now stood in the hall outside Reiji's rooms were freezing. The warm ceramic cup held in both their hands helped keep the shivers at bay.

But the longer Reira stood there, not moving in the face of their brother's private study, the quicker that warmth was going to fade before they could share that warmth with him.

Earlier that day Shun had helped advocate for Reira when trying to ask his friend Kaito how he makes the magical elixirs they've seen him share with his own brother. It was something they've been curious of for a long time, and was something Reira wondered could also cure what ails Reiji too.

It was actually a pretty simple elixir to create with the help of someone big enough to reach where the ingredients were. But Kaito had said it was important for the receiver to drink it while it was warm for the best effect. So they had rushed this way with Shun in tow. But now that they were here, Reira had froze. And the elixir had went from scorching hot to borderline lukewarm. They didn't have much more time.

That's when Shun had reached over them, and knocked on the door twice before turning on his heel back down the hall. In reality he didn't go far at all, leaning his back against the wall after rounding the corner. Close enough to listen and react if need be. But far enough to give Reira room to stand on their own. This was their idea after all, it was on them to go through with it.

The gears were now put in motion, and Reira swallowed hard at hearing the sudden commotion from behind the door. A sudden burst of energy overcame them, as if the joy of seeing their brother made them forget the hesitation they felt just moments prior.

❝ ...B-Brother? ❞

In the short moments it would take Reiji to reach the door, Reira could still feel the cup in his hands losing it's healing properties to the cold air around them. Reira's small grip on the cup tighten in hopes that they can retain even a small bit of warmth for their brother's sake. Even if it was only one tiny sip, Reira wanted to make sure it got to Reiji before it was too late..!

❝ Shun's friend... ❞ Reira then holds the cup out, presenting it and all it's magical properties to Reiji so it would be the first thing he'd see upon opening the door. ❝ He helped me make this for you. ❞

Reiji was working hard, harder than ever, and it was beginning to worry Reira greatly. They saw more than most; and they could see the stress was starting to affect their big brother in ways Reiji was willing to deal with in favor of getting work done. And perhaps right now Reira couldn't do much more than this. But Reiji made a point to believe in them before, so Reira wasn't about to let him down now. If they made it right, this elixir should be a huge help, they were sure of it.

❝ A...And... ❞

Suddenly their voice then went small. But their eyes never turning away as they often would with anyone that wasn't Reiji. It would seem Reira's other reason for doing this wasn't to remain secret for long.

❝ H-Happy birthday, brother. ❞ -

#.//reira is so dang teeny i can't ahndle ti #WITH THIS EYE「ic」#VERSE.// THE AGATHOKAKOLOGICAL VOICE「nobles of nature」#SUPERSIGHT KING ZERO 「universestreasures | Reiji Akaba」#universestreasures #.//i didn't know how to put this in an ask so it gets a post instead LOL #.//IDK HOW TO SIMPLY WRITE [REIRA MADE HOT CHOCOLATE WITH KAITO AND SHUN FOR REIJI FOR HIS BIRTHDAY] IN LESS THAN 650 WORDS APPARENTLY #.//okay but my thought was reira prolly saw reiji pinch his nose once in a headache and was ready to throw the alarm #.//this doesn't really read smooth but thats bc my brain was COOKED from a 3 day migraine hello #.//BUT. I WROTE THIS ALL IN ONE GO. THE ONLY THING I WENT BACK FOR WAS TO ADD AN A SOMWHERE I FORGOTTEN WHEN I LISTENED BACK TO THIS #.//i didn't warm up before writing this but i can consider this the warmup huh >>#.//ANWYAYS #.//AKABA SIBS

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novaursa · 14 days ago

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The War She Couldn’t Stop

- Summary: Aemond loses control over Vhagar and you pay the price for it.

- Pairing: targ!reader/Aemond Targaryen

- Rating: Explicit 18+ (for blood and gore)

- Note: The reader is Daemon's daughter.

- Tag(s): @oxymakestheworldgoround @sachaa-ff @idenyimimdenial

The storm was alive. It howled like a wounded beast and clawed at your face with sleet and rain, the sky above Storm's End a black and heaving sea of thunderclouds. You could barely see beyond Grey Ghost’s pale, ghostlike wings, each beat of them a challenge to the fury of the wind. The storm swallowed the sound of your shouts, your warnings, your pleas—but your dragon heard you. Felt you. Understood you. You clung to the saddle’s high cantle, soaked to the bone, your braids plastered to your scalp as Grey Ghost twisted between the clouds with ghostly grace, far more agile than the ancient monstrosity ahead.

Vhagar.

The silhouette of her wings was vast and terrible, a leviathan slithering through the stormclouds with a roar that cracked the heavens open. Lightning flashed—an instant of blinding silver—and you saw them. Vhagar. Aemond. And just ahead of them, smaller, panicked, Luke on Arrax. You could barely see the boy—just the glint of crimson from his cloak, fluttering like a desperate signal as the storm tried to rip him off his saddle.

Then you saw Aemond.

He looked like a specter, his pale hair soaked and streaming behind him, sapphire eye gleaming with something far more dangerous than rage. There was obsession in his mouth, twisted into a snarl, in the way he leaned forward over Vhagar’s reins like he meant to devour Lucerys, not just scare him. His lips were moving, but you couldn’t hear the words—whether they were curses or commands, you couldn’t tell. But one thing was certain: he had lost control.

And Vhagar—gods, Vhagar had smelled blood.

You didn’t think. You didn’t have time to. You slammed your heels against Grey Ghost’s flanks and he dove, shrieking, a pale arrow through the writhing dark. You angled your body low to his neck and screamed over the wind, “Now!”

Grey Ghost answered in fury.

He lunged, his white body colliding with the larger, ancient form of Vhagar just as the she-dragon twisted in midair to close the distance between her and Arrax. The impact was a deafening explosion of scale and sinew. You felt the shock of it rattle your spine, and for one heart-stopping moment, the world spun wildly as Grey Ghost bucked beneath you, his talons digging into Vhagar’s shoulder, jaws snapping.

“No!” Aemond’s voice finally cut through the gale, sharp and frantic. “Vhagar, stand down!”

You clung to the reins, teeth gritted against the sting of cold and pain, your voice hoarse as you screamed, “Luke get out of here! Fly!”

Lucerys didn’t need to be told twice. Arrax was already fleeing, wings beating in desperate rhythm as the younger dragon shrieked and vanished into the clouds, trailing sparks and fear. Vhagar roared, the ancient beast turning her fury now upon the challenger who dared to interfere. You felt it the moment her attention snapped to you—like staring down a mountain before it collapses.

“Aemond!” you cried, twisting in your saddle, trying to find him across the chaos. “Call her off!”

“I’m trying—” His voice broke. It wasn’t arrogance now. It was fear. Terror, even. “She won’t listen!”

Grey Ghost screamed, a high and eerie sound that pierced the storm like a blade. His wings snapped back just in time as Vhagar surged toward you, jaws wide. You pulled hard on the reins, urging him to dive, to spiral away, but the old she-dragon was already upon you.

The sky turned to flame.

Vhagar’s fire missed by a hair’s breadth, lighting the clouds with hellish orange as Grey Ghost veered hard right, narrowly avoiding a full engulfment. The heat seared your face, and you screamed—not in pain, but in desperation. This wasn’t a battle. It was a slaughter waiting to happen.

Aemond appeared again, hovering at a distance, pale with horror, his hands white-knuckled on the reins. “Y/N!” he shouted. “Get away! Get away!”

“She’ll kill him next!” you yelled back. “You let her kill him, and you’ll never forgive yourself!”

“I didn’t mean to—!” he shouted, shaking his head, his drenched hair clinging to his cheeks. “I never wanted this! I only meant to scare him—gods, she won’t stop!”

You understood. In that moment, you saw him—not the boy who always smirked behind his silver fringe, not the man who watched you in silence at court, never daring to touch, never daring to ask. But Aemond, stripped of pride and control, watching the dragon he once commanded become a wrathful god. And now it was your life in her jaws.

Grey Ghost cried again, defiant even as Vhagar loomed above. The pale dragon twisted, claws slashing, wings folding as he dove. The old queen followed.

The chase was on.

You didn’t breathe. You couldn’t. Each movement was raw instinct. Vhagar was stronger, but Grey Ghost was faster—barely. You banked hard, leading her away from where Arrax had fled, dragging Vhagar through narrow canyon-like clouds. Each gust of wind threatened to toss you into the void. You could feel your dragon’s muscles trembling beneath you, struggling against the downdrafts. The cold bit through your leathers, your fingers numb on the reins.

And behind you, Aemond screamed again—no longer in command, but in mourning. “Vhagar, no! STOP!”

Your gaze met his just once through the storm.

You saw the moment he realized what he’d done. What he couldn’t undo. And the look on his face wasn’t that of a prince or a warrior.

It was of a boy who just watched the only person he ever loved fly straight into the jaws of the beast he’d unchained.

Grey Ghost’s wings beat weakly, each movement slower than the last, his once-immense strength draining with every passing second. The pale dragon’s cries were a mournful symphony that mixed with the thunder, their sound nearly drowned out by the roar of Vhagar above.

The older dragon, unrelenting in her pursuit, closed in once more, this time with purpose. Her fire surged toward Grey Ghost’s side, and you felt the heat burn through your leathers, the fire scorching the dragon’s flank. His body jerked in pain, his wings faltering as a scream ripped from his throat, echoing across the storm, a sound that would haunt you forever. You gasped, your breath catching in your throat, eyes wide with horror. His body shuddered beneath you, and you clung to the saddle, desperately trying to steer him, to fight against the weight of the winds, the storm, and Vhagar’s fury.

But it was too late. Grey Ghost’s flight grew erratic, every beat of his wings weaker than the last. He roared in agony as the wound from Vhagar’s flame tore through his scales, leaving a deep, searing gash along his side. You felt him struggle to maintain altitude, his breath ragged, his strength fading. And in that moment, you knew: the ground was coming, and there was no escaping it.

Aemond's voice pierced through the chaos, his cry filled with desperation. "Y/N!" he screamed, his voice hoarse, panicked. "Y/N, get away!"

But the words came too late.

Grey Ghost’s wings fluttered one last time before they gave way to the storm’s violent pull. With a lurch, he began his descent, plummeting toward the earth. The wind screamed around you as the world spun, your stomach turning with the dizzying fall, your heart pounding in your chest. The ground was coming too fast, the distance too short.

And then, with a sickening thud, the earth slammed into Grey Ghost’s back, and you were thrown from your saddle, your body colliding with the hard, wet ground.

Everything went black.

When you opened your eyes, the storm still howled above, but everything else was silent. The world was a blur of pain and confusion. You could taste blood on your tongue, feel the wetness of the rain on your skin. You tried to move, but your body wouldn’t respond. You could hear the crackling of fire in the distance and the weak, strained breath of a dragon.

Grey Ghost.

You managed to lift your head, but your vision swam, and you saw him—his white body crumpled on the wet earth beside you. His wings were bent, broken at unnatural angles, his once-glorious scales now dull and bloodied. His chest rose and fell in shallow, ragged breaths, but you knew it wasn’t long now.

His eyes, pale like the moon, flickered open. He looked at you with a softness that, in this moment, seemed almost human—tired, defeated, and sorrowful. His head lowered toward you, his cold breath ghosting over your face. You tried to reach for him, but your arms were heavy, and your body wouldn’t obey.

Aemond appeared, his figure emerging through the rain, stumbling toward you, his breath labored and frantic. His one eye—violet and wild—sought you out, desperate, searching. His voice cracked as he shouted your name, a broken plea for a response. "Y/N! Y/N, please... stay with me. Please."

But you couldn’t answer.

Aemond fell to his knees beside you, trembling as his hand reached for your cheek, brushing wet strands of hair from your face. He barely seemed to register the storm around him, his focus entirely on you. He looked at Grey Ghost—still alive, but barely—and then back at you, his mouth moving without sound, as if he were trying to speak, but the words couldn’t come. His eye was wide, filled with something raw, something unspeakable.

"You’re going to be alright," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "You’re going to be fine. Just hold on. Please... please."

His voice cracked, the last word coming out as a desperate sob. His fingers trembled as they clutched at your wrist, his entire body shaking from more than just the cold.

But it was too late.

Grey Ghost’s breath hitched with one last, strained sigh, and his head slumped to the ground beside you, his body stilling. You could feel his warmth leave him, his life slipping away like water through your fingers. His wings fluttered once, the movement faint and unsteady, before they stilled.

And in that moment, you knew—he was gone.

Aemond screamed, a guttural, heart-wrenching sound that tore through the air and echoed off the cliffs. His grip on your hand tightened, but you felt your own pulse growing faint. You tried to speak, but no words came, only a strangled breath. The edges of your vision blurred again, and you felt the cold seep into your bones, as if the world itself was closing around you.

Aemond pressed his forehead against yours, his breath ragged and desperate. "I’m sorry," he whispered, his voice broken. "I never wanted this. Please, please don’t leave me. Not like this."

His lips brushed against your brow, a fleeting touch that sent a shiver down your spine, but the warmth of it was fading. You could feel him, but the distance between you was growing. The world was spinning, slipping through your fingers, like the last remnants of hope.

"Please," he begged again, his voice cracking as he looked down at you, helpless. "I love you. I’ve always loved you... Please, stay with me."

But you couldn’t. Not anymore.

Your eyes fluttered closed for the final time, and as the storm raged above, you felt the last threads of life slip away. Aemond’s voice echoed in your ears, but it grew distant, muffled by the cold, the wind, and the inevitable silence.

And when the world went dark, you felt the weight of it—the weight of everything that could have been, but never would.

The doors of the small council chamber groaned open, heavy hinges screaming into the air like a warning bell. Rain still clung to Aemond’s cloak, dripping in dark rivulets onto the stone floor, his boots tracking mud and blood in their wake. The storm had not left him at Storm’s End—it followed him, soaked into his bones, his skin, the hollow carved behind his ribs. He didn’t glance at the guards who pushed the doors open. He didn’t look at his mother seated beside the Hand. His eye, shadowed and sunken, remained fixed on nothing, as though he were walking through smoke, a specter of a prince, no longer a man at all.

Alicent stood as soon as she saw him, hands clenched in front of her skirts, her brow tight with anxiety. Otto Hightower rose more slowly, cold calculation already visible in his gaze. He measured the mood of the room like a butcher sizing up a carcass—he saw the stiffness in Aemond’s gait, the filth on his leathers, the scorch marks across his armor. He saw the silence in his face and the blood along the edge of his gloves.

“Aemond,” Alicent said softly, “you’ve returned. What news from Storm’s End? Did Lord Borros agree to our terms? Have you chosen one of his daughters?”

Aemond didn’t answer at first. He walked the full length of the room, boots thudding, silent but for the faint metallic clink of his sword still sheathed at his side. He stopped at the end of the long table where Aegon sat half-slouched in his chair, sipping wine, already smirking at the sight of his younger brother so bedraggled.

“Gods, look at you,” Aegon chuckled dryly, tipping his cup toward Aemond. “Did you fall off Vhagar into a privy or simply forget how to bathe in the storm? You look like the drowned god’s bastard son.”

The silence that followed was heavy—too heavy.

Aemond slowly raised his gaze. The sapphire in his ruined eye gleamed wet with the low torchlight. He looked at no one in particular, but when he spoke, his voice was sanded raw and hollow.

“She’s dead.”

Alicent flinched, confusion contorting her face. “Who…?”

Otto frowned. “What are you saying?”

Aemond blinked once, slowly. Then again. The shadows beneath his eye made him look decades older, and when he spoke again, it came out like stone grinding over stone.

“Y/N.”

Aegon froze, the humor bleeding out of his face like wine from a shattered cup. The goblet slipped from his hand and clattered against the floor, rolling beneath the table as the king stared at his brother. Alicent’s hands flew to her mouth.

“What?” she whispered. “No. No, gods—how? Why was she there? Why—”

“She came on Grey Ghost,” Aemond said, voice flat. “She tried to stop me. Stop Vhagar. Lucerys was fleeing. She turned her dragon into the fire.”

The room held its breath.

“I lost control,” Aemond said, louder now, but no more alive. “I tried to stop her. I tried. Vhagar… she wouldn’t listen. Grey Ghost fought. She burned him. He fell. And Y/N—she…”

He trailed off, his throat tightening as his eye fluttered shut, as though trying to erase the image imprinted there. The twisted body of the pale dragon. Her broken form beneath his wing. Her blood, the same color as his, soaking into the mud.

“She died beneath him. He tried to shield her from the storm.”

Otto’s face turned to granite, and his voice trembled just beneath the surface of composure. “You fool. You arrogant, bloody fool. You’ve doomed us.”

Alicent turned on him. “Father—”

“No,” Otto snapped. “You don’t understand, child. He killed Daemon’s blood. His daughter. There will be no negotiating after this. There will be no truce. Only fire. Only war.”

Aegon rose, slowly. He said nothing. His eyes were locked on Aemond, and in that moment, there was no jest, no sneer. Only realization. There, standing before him, was not the prince he’d once mocked. It was something broken. Something hollowed out. And that frightened him more than Daemon Targaryen ever had.

Alicent stepped forward, voice trembling. “Aemond… was it an accident?”

He looked at her, and for the first time, his voice cracked. “I loved her.”

The words brought a stillness so complete, even the fire seemed to stop crackling.

Otto said nothing. Aegon turned his gaze away.

Aemond’s hands hung limp at his sides, one of them still bloodied. “I loved her since we were children,” he said, softer now. “I never said it. Never dared. And now she’s gone.”

He turned without another word and left the room.

Behind him, no one moved. The silence that followed was not just shock—it was the death knell of peace. The moment everything changed. The moment blood began to rule.

In the flickering shadows of the council chamber, Otto sat back slowly, staring ahead as if watching the future already burn.

“We must prepare,” he said at last. “Daemon will come.”

And this time, no one doubted it.

#house of the dragon #hotd #a song of ice and fire #fire and blood #f&b #game of thrones #asoiaf #hotd x reader #hotd x you #hotd x y/n #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #x reader #reader insert

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